Waiting For Eternity
by pansy-gal
Summary: Her husband dies. She refuses to remove her ring and insists on waiting until she gets to return to him. Post-Modern so it jumps around alot. It can apply to any pairing.


Waiting for Eternity  
  
He was gone. Long gone. Far gone. I had cried, but in time my tears had frozen behind my eyes. It made the frozen tears burn when I thought of him, what it could've been like had he not left.  
I was laughing. He had just made a funny comment in a sexy voice; he knew it would make me laugh. Our three children moved towards us, one running, one stumbling, and one crawling as fast as his new arms and legs would transport him.  
The kids that never would grow. The kids, that for all their lives, should not have even been born.  
Fiddled with my wedding band. Two years and I still insisted on wearing it. I told friends and family that I wouldn't take it off. I had promised him that I wouldn't. Even if no one else believed me, I heard his last words to me, even as the screaming of the flat-line echoed in my head. I had a long way to go before I could see him again, but I had heard him then and would hold up my promise.  
The time had finally come. I lay in my bed, our bed, alone. My hair had long past thinned and grown pale and I knew that I would return to him soon. I touched my wedding band. It was tarnished and scratched and a little beat up, but I could feel it's chilly touch as I took a shaking, shallow, final breath.  
There he was, just as I remembered him. He hadn't changed. My frozen tears melted and I cried for all my happiness.  
"This time," I told him, "we will be together forever. I promise." He smiled...  
...as his casket was lowered into the ground.  
I cried. I had already cried, I thought. Then I realized that no tears came. I could hear someone. A high voice. A child's voice.  
"Mommy," it called. "Mommy? Daddy?" I knew the voice. It belonged to my child. My last child. "Mommmy," the child ran up to me, but in the space of flight between his great leaps, he grew. He flashed from toddler to child to a handsome young man.  
That wasn't my child. He was my husband now, just as I remembered him.  
But he was gone, wasn't he?  
My eyes fluttered. My fingers of my right hand lay upon my wedding band. I gasped, struggling for air.  
His last words to me echoed in my brain. I knelt. At one time, the plot was raw, upturned dirt, but over time it had become soft and green. I read the stone. His name came into focus.  
My frozen tears. His last words. Our children, never to live. His last words.  
The beeping that I had been listening to for the last three days was steady. His heart beat on. My head lay on the hospital sheets, my hands clasped around his. I stared into his soul, through his scarred face. Scarred from flames and wracked with pain.  
Heat. Immense, seething heat. It licked at my face in orange-gold tendrils. It felt cold. Freezing flames. The amber icicles tearing at my skin. They were so hot, they had frozen. The frozen flames that had taken the breath from my three children. The fire that ended all I knew. The flickering light that lit the city and lit the burning face of my husband in a grotesque moment. The frozen flames that weren't all so frozen.  
His eyes fluttered open. "Hey," he whispered. His voice. The voice I knew so well. I smiled at him. His last words. "They're telling me I have to go now, but promise me you won't forget me." His eyes were hazy, but I could still see his old self in them. He was leaving now. There was no stopping the moment.  
I choked back tears and tried to be strong. His spirit was being tugged at. I squeezed his hand. "I promise. I'll never forget. I'll forever wear this ring of ours to remind me of our love. It won't fade." He smiled.  
I was still holding his hand. I couldn't let go. He couldn't be gone.  
I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around. He stood there, hale and healthy. I stood and gazed at him. Tears that would petrify in the time to come began to well up behind my eyes. He kissed my forehead tenderly and gently placed his semi-transparent hand on my stomach, swollen with a new life. "Be strong, 'kay?" He held my face in his hands. I blinked. The movement forced tears from the rims of my eyes. I nodded as a final agreement and farewell.  
He was gone.  
Finally, I would be joining him. I brushed a long strand of white hair from my face. My spirit was being pulled at. I had to go.  
I took my child's face in my hands. He looked so much like his father. A strong, handsome, grown man who looked just like his father. "Be strong," I told him.  
My life had finished its eerie, sad, happy, slow, fast, catchy and unmemorable song. It was done.  
I was finally with my husband once more. "You were strong." He whispered. He pulled me into the embrace that I had waited for since the time he had left, over forty years ago. I swung my arms around him and wept into him. He was just as I remembered him. He hadn't changed. Neither had I. Now, we would embrace eternally.  
He looked up. He was walking out of the hospital, late at night, his heart heavy. Two comets, flying together, streaked across the sky. Their tails left a beautiful memory where they flew. Every year, at that same time, those comets flew together, embracing eternally, reliving their memory, more dazzling every time. 


End file.
